It Happened One Day

     My name is Phillantipia. It is a bit of an odd name. I was born a wonderful little red Xweetok. I still am a Xweetok... but I am no longer red. A rather rich young lady had created me. She lavished me with gourmet foods, fabulous grooming products, and the best of training at the academy. I had a rather posh life. I spent holidays in the finest hotel rooms and only mingled with the elite of Neopian Society. I thought I had all a pet could ever want. I thought I was loved. My owner perhaps loved me because I was beautiful, but for no other reason beyond that.

     One day she decided to take me to the Lab Ray. I was so nervous. She told me I had to keep its location a secret, otherwise all the poor and dirty of Neopia would be flocking to the gates and wasting the precious benefits she claimed we deserved. I sat anxiously in the chair while the technician geared up the machine. They promised that I would only feel a warm tingle while the ray transformed me.

     I was sure I would emerge even more spectacular than before. My owner was a rather vain girl, and I was certain she would never do anything to jeopardize my beauty. However as the clouds settled after my zap, a look of pure horror came over my owner’s face. She began to cry hysterically, mumbling about faeries and spots. I was confused until the technician brought a mirror for me to view my new appearance. I took a deep breath and gazed upon myself.

     I had become a spotted Xweetok. Although it was not a scary or mutated look, it was not acceptable to my owner. Rather than coming back day after day to attempt to change this, she took me to the Pound, and did not so much as look back as she marched out the doors.

     I was only in the pound for a few days. I do count my blessings. There were pets that had been abandoned months ago and still awaiting adoption. The bells rang for us to all come and present ourselves while a young newbie walked the line considering each one of us. I had hoped she would not choose me. I did not want to have to live the life of a poor pet. Of course that was before I learned that glamour and financial status really mean nothing in life.

     If you are wondering, yes I was adopted by that newbie. Her name was Isis. I was her first pet. Instead of creating a new pet for herself, she opened her home to an abandoned pet. Once she heard of how my owner had treated me after one bad lab ray attempt, Isis vowed she would find a way to turn me into something that I would have more pride in. Though she did not have many neopoints, she began a quest for the perfect solution to my dilemma.

     In the middle of the night Isis awoke me and we left for the Lost Desert. Behind one of the stores we met a rather shady looking shop keeper. He held a soft purple velvet bag. As Isis approached, he opened it to reveal a rather odd looking paint brush. Coming from the highest towers of Neopian wealth, I had thought I had seen all the possible paint brushes. This brush was plain in a simple description. It had an old brittle looking handle, and the bristles shimmered, but there were no apparent colors in them. I could not tell what color this brush could possibly paint any pet. Immediately I began to worry Isis was being swindled into buying a regular painting brush. Despite my trying to warn her, Isis handed over a bag full of neopoints and hurried me along leaving the chuckling man in the shadows.

     Ahhhh, now we are up to that “One Day” that it happened. Isis and I went to the Rainbow Pool where she planned to paint me. I am sure you figured that out, with the obvious fact that we now had a paint brush. I asked her what I would look like when she completed this task, and she nervously admitted that she did not know.

     I waded into the pool until it came up just below my belly and stood there as Isis kneeled on the shore. Carefully she took the old brush out of its velvet bag and dipped it into the gentle waters of the pool. Vigilantly she painted over all my spots, making sure that the magical paint covered evenly all over my small body. She took extra care to make sure she painted around my eyes and on the pads of my feet. Isis did not want to miss a single section and have me feel less than superior. While she was painting I realized that it did not matter what I would look like when she completed. It only mattered that I had an owner who actually cared about my feelings. I gladly gave up the longing for my old lifestyle. I knew no soft feather pillows, or crystal ornaments around me could ever match the sudden happiness I felt at that moment watching my new owner take such care and devotion to me. Isis did not care if I was spotted, but she knew I had been hurt by my appearance, so she set out to mend my bruised emotions.

     At last she was done. Isis set the paint brush down on the shore and sighed as she gazed upon me. With a sizzle the paint brush vanished. I knew by the look of joy on her face, nothing could be wrong with my new look. I would be even willing to walk around a mutant if only to see that happiness on Isis’s face each day.

     Holding up a small compact mirror she kept in her purse, Isis showed me what I now looked like. My fur had turned a wonderful clean sparkling white. My eyes were deep and dark yet had a shimmer much like onyx in the sunlight. I was beautiful again. I was a new breed of Xweetok. According to Isis, I was the most beautiful and glamorous Xweetok she had ever had the pleasure to gaze upon.

     Perhaps you are wondering why I am telling you this story. Yes, I suppose there is a moral to it. Love is more important than money and all that. The reason I think back on what happened is just yesterday as Isis and I were shopping I bumped into my old owner. The rich snob did not even recognize me. She was taken back by my beauty though. When Isis called to me, and my old owner heard my name, she quickly looked back and forth from Isis to me. I gather she was shocked to see such a fabulous looking pet with a rather plain and poor looking owner. She hurried over to Isis claiming I was a lost pet of hers. When Isis refused to believe that story, my old owner then begged her to reveal how she managed to turn me into something so magnificent when she was obviously not part of Neopian Upper Society. Isis only smiled and turned to leave. As I followed I motioned to my old owner to bend down so I could whisper in her ear the secret.

     “The secret was love.”

The End